


Through the end we've always started

by Marishna



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Awkwardness, Coitus Interruptus, F/M, Knotting, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, M/M, Memory Magic, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Spying, can't say with who, never speak of this again, sheriff stilinski gets some, stiles saves lydia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 03:38:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4548831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marishna/pseuds/Marishna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles shook his head. "I don't know, I can't get close enough to the room and I don't want to tip anyone off and I'm freaked that it's something <i>bad</i>, Scott," Stiles let out in a rush and Scott immediately folded his best friend into his arms and hugged him long and tight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through the end we've always started

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a 5 Things challenge at card_writing for gameofcards on LJ. The prompt was _Five incidents that everyone agreed to pretend never happened._ Everything just kind of snowballed from there.
> 
> I can't put a pairing with the Sheriff because it's a spoiler for the fic (but not the show, LOL).

**01.** Considering the general "normal" of Beacon Hills Stiles doesn't think it should be held against him that he pressed the panic button.

The proverbial one, anyway, because he mass texted everyone to get out to the Beacon Heights motor inn on the highway ASAP and that he was worried about his dad. 

He was on his way to the McDonalds on the highway before midnight and sue him, he's a cop's kid. One who noticed the very vehicle the sheriff generally drove hidden in some trees beside the motor inn. 

That was never good.

Stiles was pacing at the side of the motor inn, biting the skin around the thumb of his one hand while carrying his bat in the other, when Scott arrived. He parked across the street with Stiles' Jeep and jogged over to him.

"Hey, what's going on?"

Stiles shook his head. "I don't know, I can't get close enough to the room and I don't want to tip anyone off and I'm freaked that it's something _bad_ , Scott," Stiles let out in a rush and Scott immediately folded his best friend into his arms and hugged him long and tight.

Malia pulled up a few minutes later with Liam, Mason and Kira in tow.

"What's the plan?" Malia asked as soon as she got out of the car. Scott held up a hand and closed his eyes, listening hard. He tilted his head and nodded.

"Third from the end, on the bottom. Sounds quiet, but I can hear your dad, Stiles. He sounds okay."

"Who else is in there?"

"I don't know, can't make them out. They're too quiet."

The group held, waiting for a signal to go in, or to get a clue on who had the Sheriff. A few minutes later Lydia arrived, staring curiously across the parking lot as she approached.

"What? What do you see?" Stiles asked, expression of dread falling across his face.

Lydia frowned and pointed to the far end of the parking lot. "That's my mom's car."

The pack froze and everyone peeked around the corner of the building to where Lydia was pointing.

"That shade is custom. I would know because my dad didn't let it drop through the whole divorce process. Galaxy gray," Lydia explained slowly. She turned around and looked through to the small copse of trees the Sheriff's vehicle was parked in.

"No way!" Mason gasped with undisguised glee and Malia smacked him on the shoulder hard enough that he whimpered.

"We have to go," Stiles said suddenly. "We can't be here. _I_ can't be here. Oh, shit."

Lydia nodded in agreement and everyone started to leave but Scott hissed out, "Everyone stop! There's someone else coming."

The pack ducked into the relative safety of the shadows and watched a new car creep into the parking lot and stop across the lot where Lydia's mom parked.

"Scott..." Stiles said slowly.

"Isn't that your mom's car, Scott?" Liam asked, confused.

Lydia, Scott and Stiles all flattened themselves against the building, identical looks of horror on their faces.

Kira started. "Is that—"

Scott cut in. "Yes."

Malia tried, "So are they—"

Stiles shook his head. "Looks like."

"Is anyone going to explain this to me?" Liam asked, still so very confused.

" _Nope!_ " Stiles, Scott, and Lydia said at once.

"Everyone go home!" Scott barked. "And never bring this up again. Ever."

 **02.** The warlock had Lydia for three days before the pack was able to track her down.

Stiles showed up at Deaton's and demanded for him to draw Stiles' spark out, that he needed to find Lydia and they had no other way to do it.

Deaton was hesitant but Scott nodded, a silent signal that he'd tried to talk his friend out of going down this path but Stiles was determined.

It hurt worse than anything Stiles ever felt in his life, including losing his mom or being attached by Donovan. It felt like having his very soul ripped away from his spine.

When Deaton was done Stiles was shaking and was bathed in a cold sweat. But when Scott presented the map to Stiles he was able to focus on her and he cast a light over the area she was in with his hand.

Stiles couldn't meet Deaton's eyes before they left to get her. 

The pack met near the abandoned warehouse (because what other kind are around in Beacon Hills?) and Stiles led the charge against everyone's advice and warning. 

"I can stop this fucker," Stiles muttered without breaking his stride. The weres shifted, Mason clutched Stiles' baseball bat and they charged in through a back bay door once Stiles obliterated the barrier spell the warlock put on it.

Lydia was hanging by her bound wrists from a hook, like a true movie-esque villain. She was pale, her face dirty, her clothes torn. The smell of fear was evident even to anyone without heightened senses.

 Stiles felt rage, as potent as the pain from pulling his spark to the surface. His hands shook and his eyes glowed and the old windows in the building rattled as his rage focused.

Lydia's eyes opened and she sobbed brokenly. "No, S-Stiles," she whispered but it was too late.

The warlock's booming laugh echoed in the warehouse longer than the pulse of magic Stiles sent out that annihilated anything in his path. 

All that was left of Jonais as a pile of acrid ash that Stiles stepped through on his way to get Lydia down.

On the way out of the building, bundled up in two coats and carried in Scott's arms Stiles asked her, "What did he do to you? What did he want?"

Lydia openly wept. "It was never me. Never about me, Stiles. It was you."

"What does that mean?" Malia asked from behind them as they loaded Lydia in the car. "Stiles? What does that mean?"

Stiles pressed his lips together and didn't meet her eyes, couldn't put it into words.

He didn't know if he ever would.

 **03.** They don't talk about it because they can't.

Literally. 

The only way to get out of what happened was to vow to never speak of it again. Even if any of them tried they physically couldn't.

Sometimes Scott has dreams where he feels like it's within his grasp, like he could literally grab it and wake up with it, but ...

He can't even say anything to the rest of the pack because, well.

Yeah.

 **04.** "I think you need to surprise me more often," Stiles gasped and arched his back as Derek pulsed in him again, filling him even more from his knot.

Derek nuzzled his scruffy chin against Stiles' neck and grinned there, scraping his teeth against the sensitive skin. "Liked that, did you?"

"Best birthday present ever, gotta say," Stiles replied, reaching back to grab Derek's hand to lace their fingers together. He brought them to his abs and dragged their fingers through his mess there, then lifted them to his mouth to lick them clean, dragging his tongue around each digit and into each crease.

"It's as much a present for me, believe me," Derek murmured, shifting so his knot caught on Stiles' rim. Stiles let out a hissing moan and sucked on Derek's fingers, feeling himself start to get hard again.

"You should just never leave," Stiles groaned. If Stiles were a werewolf he would have been able to hear the uptick in Derek's heartbeat. But he wasn't so Derek made due with pressing his lips to Stiles' jaw and thrusting just right so his knot grazed Stiles' prostate.

"Not fair," Stiles whispered harshly and turned his head to catch Derek's mouth, kissing him as as filthily as he could with the weird angle.

Over Stiles muffled moans and Derek's hand slicking over Stiles' cock they were both a little more than distracted, which is why the front door to the apartment swung open and the whole pack piled through, yelling "Happy Birthday" and brandishing balloons and streamers. 

Stiles yelped and automatically tried to pull away, then yelped louder because he couldn't move. Derek was trying to restrain him and grab a blanket at the same time. Scott was flushed red with wide eyes while Malia tried to peer over his shoulder to get a better look.

Liam was already walking out the door, Lydia was trying to usher everyone out and Mason was staring at Stiles and Derek openly, trying to take everything in.

"Do you all have a knot? I thought it was just a myth!" he asked while Lydia and Liam both shoved him out the door.

"Shut up, Mason!" Liam yelled.

"Sorry, sorry! Sorry guys! We'll call later!" Scott yelled while dragging Malia with him. The door clicked shut, leaving balloons still bouncing in their wake as they settled and streamers waved from where they landed across the living room.

Stiles was quiet and Derek was frozen, except his cock was still working in Stiles. Apparently the wolf side of him felt no shame.

"So," Stiles said.

"So," Derek repeated.

"If anyone ever asks about this we ignore it totally, right?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

Stiles was quiet again, biting his lip. Derek shifted on his hip and Stiles couldn't help the unbidden gasp it wrought from him. 

His dick twitched, having gone soft during the unwelcome intrusion. Derek's hand snaked around his hip and smoothed over his flesh, palming it until it started to firm up again.

"Still?" Stiles asked, somewhat dazed.

"You want to waste this?" Derek asked, thrusting shallowly. 

 Stiles' deep inhalation was the only response Derek needed.

 **05.** Everyone's pretty sure the thing they'd prefer not to be able to remember is the near-orgy that almost happened between them all.

But they don't really know because they Do. Not. Talk. About. It.

Not even to find out what really happened to cause it. 

All anyone knows for sure is that they all owe their collective dignities and, probably, pack stability to Deaton because he managed to swoop in at the last second and stop them from doing a Very. Bad. Thing.

On their own each member thanked Deaton in their own, personal way (Malia killed, skinned and butchered a deer for him on her own) but never once did the event come up in his presence.

God he was glad he was only on the fringes of the pack.


End file.
